Mistress Molly
by Honestcannibal
Summary: Molly has a dirty habit. She needs Sherlock Holmes to stop except he is her addiction. Dark!Molly, WIP.
1. Chapter 1

The crack of whip and the harsh cry from a man as the leather broke the skin, blood beginning to ooze from strike, made her lick her dry lips. All these beautiful men and their filthy minds drugged her into a blissful oblivion, calming her desperation for that one man.

Molly Hooper wasn't quite satisfied with her slaves.

She struck the man again on the back, whining in pleasure as he fell forwards onto his muscle ridden elbows. Gripping the whip in her fists tightly, she sighed in frustration. "You're not him." She called to the four men at her feet, wearing only leather briefs and collars on their necks.

"Mistress please," One of them begged, grasping at her leg and kissing her naked thigh.

"Please what?" She asked gently, stroking his hair.

"Punish me, please." He leaned into her touch like a cat, sucking on her fingers when she chuckled. She slipped her hand under his chin and lifted his head to look at her, "get me Sherlock Holmes and I will punish you all you like, pet."

The man grinned, his green eyes sparkling and he kissed her hand generously, "I will, I will."

The others joined in, kissing her thighs, shoes and hands. She smiled evilly, looking at each of her pets, her slaves with love. She cared for them when nobody else did, she didn't mind if they had wives or children or even pets of their own, she liked the company of her slaves when it suited her.

From her time at Bart's, from the first time she saw Sherlock she _knew _he belonged amongst her pets, the way his eyes shined so viciously, and those dark locks of curly hair made her skin tingle, just wanting to run her hands through it and pull. Yes, Molly _needed _him at her mercy.

It was up to her slaves to get him so she would leave them to their task, knowing they would succeed. Those precious lovelies would do anything for her, it made her smile darkly as she watched them gather their clothes and retreat from her bedroom.

_So pale, so cold,_ Molly stared at the body lying on the table. _Heart attack, thirty-two years old. _She blinked when the door to the morgue opened and turned when hearing the footsteps of _The Admired One_.

"Ah, Molly," He smiled with those wonderfully pink lips; Molly was hypnotized as they moved. "I need to ask for a favour."

Molly answered with her usual, "of course, what is it?" and a sweet smile. She zoned out as she thought about how much she wanted to caress that face, feel his cheekbones under her fingers and graze her nails over the smooth, pale skin.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked with a small frown.

"No, I- everything's fine," Molly walked around the taller man and looked over the body on the table, "Just fine. You said you wanted a favour?"

"I hate repeating myself," Sherlock muttered and Molly felt a chill go up her spine; that voice was so demanding when low. _You need to be taught a lesson, pet. _"I said I wondered if you could supply me with a few tongues."

_Oh, I'll give you mine._ Molly beamed at Sherlock, "Collect them from my house tonight."

Sherlock paused, "can I not collect them now?"

Molly pointed up at the CCTV in the morgue, "afraid not. Sorry." She gave him a sympathetic smile and Sherlock nodded,

"I'll see you later then." Sherlock shot her a quick smile and left the room.

Molly gripped her clipboard tightly in her hands, feeling the wood embed her skin. She inhaled sharply and felt pure arousal surround her. _I need him._

* * *

**I just love Molly and decided to show her from another perspective. **

**More to come, this is a WIP! Other chapters will hopefully be longer! **


	2. Chapter 2

Her thighs were shaking as she sat on the sofa, eyes darting to the clock every five seconds. Three slaves sat at her feet, resting their heads on her legs as her hands stroked through their hair. "He should be here soon." Molly's voice sounded loud even to herself. "How should we convince him, Antony?" She looked down at one of her pets, who responded almost immediately,

"We'll do it for you,"

Molly chuckled, "he's not like any other man."

"You could lead him into the kitchen and we could ambush him,"

"I don't want him hurt." Molly said lowly, feeling anger rile inside of her at the thought of _anyone _harming Sherlock, anyone apart from her.

"We can use the chloroform."

Molly paused and a sinister smile slowly spread across her face, "brilliant, Antony." She smoothed her hand over his face and through his hair.

"Thank you, mistress." He murmured as he kissed her hand.

She was excited and full of want; her thighs shook again as she thought of Sherlock on his knees, staring up at her and begging for her hands over him. _Oh yes he will be begging. The Virgin will never know what hit him. _

It was getting dark when the door knocked an even four times and Molly had just finished with her make-up. She turned away from the mirror and looked over at her three pets, all waiting patiently on her bed. "Try to keep quiet, he's very...observant."

"We won't let you down, mistress." Antony grinned eagerly.

He was her favourite, almost definitely. Beautiful brown hair, deep hazel eyes, early twenties – yes, apart from Sherlock, he was Molly's second best.

Molly took three deep breaths before opening the front door and gazed at the impatient looking man on the other side,

"Finally decided to answer the door I see." He gave a quick smile and Molly's heart leapt into her throat.

"Oh, hello," She opened the door wider, "just come through and I'll get the tongues."

Sherlock wiped his shoes on the mat – _very polite – _and walked passed her into the kitchen. Molly felt her legs begin to shake in excitement and arousal, his scent was indulging, she wanted to rip his coat off and live in it.

She walked into the kitchen and stopped by the fridge, she didn't really have any tongues in there - that would be disgusting. Then she heard the surprised call from Sherlock and turned around, seeing her three pets restraining Sherlock and holding a cloth over his mouth and nose. He struggled enough to almost knock the three men off of him and Molly watched in awe.

Soon enough, his body went limp. Molly approached him and ran a hand slowly over his face, _so peaceful, so calm..._

"Get him upstairs." Molly demanded, snatching her hand away. She didn't want to begin in the kitchen, no, no, she needed her palace.

The loft was the place Molly held most of her sessions with her pets so she arranged for Sherlock to be put up there, she had said she wanted complete privacy and knew they would obey. When Molly had first moved into this house, her father lived with her for quite some time before he had passed away, and since then, Molly decided to live out her dirty fantasies.

Her bedroom was too..._innocent _for her actions towards her pets so she decided to refurnish the loft and dump all of her father's belongings in a self-storage block, that way she wouldn't be reminded by her father's things as she sadistically dripped candle wax over a man's crotch.

Molly climbed the stairs and ladder to the loft and saw the beautiful pale man strapped to a chair. Her heart beat so fast she thought it was going to jump out of her chest, and when she looked onwards at the ruffled shirt, she wanted to furiously attack his neck with her teeth and make him scream.

Oh his scream – she could imagine it, that deep, casual voice suddenly mutated into a desperate scream, a cry out for her, begging, _pleading._ She slowly walked towards him, gently scraping her nails over his covered shoulder. He wouldn't wake up, not just yet, but Molly could enjoy his unconsciousness.

She ran a hand through his hair and leaned down to plant a kiss into the curls, smelling his shampoo and savouring the scent.

_Not long now, _She sighed happily.

* * *

**In case some of you don't know, a loft is basically an attic. **

**Chloroform can be sold in pharmacies and I don't know **_**why**_**. I'm the idiot of all chemistry so I'm clueless what it's used for; I only know that it knocks you out.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I know it's been a while, but this is a WIP and I have a few others to update! **

* * *

Molly heard a low groan and looked up from her magazine, her eyes flashing with excitement as she looked at the detective. Sherlock lifted his head and looked straight at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Molly, what-"

"Shhh," Molly stood and rolled up her magazine, "its okay, you're safe." She smiled, walking towards her bound Sherlock.

He looked down at the restraints, testing them momentarily – oh Molly loved the way his arms tensed – and soon looking back up at Molly, a questioning look on his face. "_Safe_?" He quoted.

Molly didn't want to touch him; he looked so delicate, but her hands betrayed her as they drifted over Sherlock's shoulders, across the thin material to his chest. His eyes never left her face, she could feel him staring at her and she avoided flushing, knowing it would be used as a weakness.

Molly's eyes met his as her fingers slipped over a button on his shirt, the plastic in between her forefinger and thumb. Should she? Was it too soon? She shook her head, dropping her hands to her sides. No, it was too soon, she wanted to feel the fabric of his clothing before letting her hands wander over his desirable body.

"What am I doing here?" Sherlock asked suddenly, breaking Molly from her gaze at his chest. "And why am I restrained?"

"You're not that inexperienced are you?" She chuckled, stroking a thumb over his cheek; the way his skin felt made her own skin tingle.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her and she sighed gently, giving him a sympathetic smile, _oh Sherlock. _She wanted to kiss him but she wouldn't dare, her lipstick would stain his pale skin and she couldn't have that. Not yet anyway.

His body tensed under her touch when she leaned forward, placing both of her hands on his thighs, perhaps too close to his crotch. "This isn't sexual," she began, sliding her hands over the fabric of his trousers, "I wouldn't taint your purity with my own."

Sherlock looked surprised at that and Molly nodded, "what? Shocked?" She smiled when his face dropped to the usual expressionless one, "I own men but I don't shag them." She squeezed his thigh, obviously he would have already discovered everything about what she does. "No. No, I saved my virginity."

"You're self-conscious of your body." Sherlock said and Molly nodded,

"Partly the reason, yes." She slipped her hands back up to Sherlock's shoulders, "is that why you haven't had anyone?"

Sherlock grimaced, "no."

"Okay," Molly rubbed his shoulders and stood up straight. She wasn't as talented as Sherlock, she couldn't tell if he was lying, but she knew that she wouldn't do anything Sherlock didn't consent to. That would be wrong, and that would surely stop him from enjoying her presence in the future.

"You didn't answer my question."

"You're here because I wanted you here."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She slipped her hands under the collar of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin. Leaning in close, she whispered in his ear. "I adore you."

Molly felt him shiver slightly at the feeling of her breath against his ear. His body felt so incredible close to hers, her breath stopped when his low tone sounded so closely to her ear,

"And why is that?"

She quivered, practically beaming with arousal, "Because you're Sherlock Holmes."


End file.
